Femme. Femininity. Fugeddaboudit.
The way the boys said it, it seemed almost a ... disgrace.
They are just one step away from calling me 'gu niang'.
And if they ever dared to, I swear I'm gonna pull off their dicks and bitch slap them silly with them.
It's not that I reject (my) femininity. (I think I don't.) I'm just very terrified of dressing or behaving in an overly feminine manner ... I'm not sure why.
I think it may be because I think I'd look like a drag queen in 'girly' clothes - and not like the gorgeous Pollyfilla either; leaning more towards Philip Seymour Hoffman's drag queen in Flawless ... but much fuglier - like a male comedian who dons drag to wring a laugh from his audience.
This, in turn, may have its roots in a girl friend's once telling me I should never wear blusher: I turn red easily; if I wore blusher, my face would look like a baboon's butt.
Very encouraging stuff, this.
Especially now, when I'm trying to plan a 'working' wardrobe.
I'm trying to get away with never having to wear make-up (or, as Germ had reminded me what I'd always called it: "war paint"). I don't know how I'm gonna pull it off if and when I start going for job interviews, but I'm gonna give it a shot. Why should women wear make-up anyway? It's not fair that men don't have to. (Besides, I'm allergic.)
Thanks to the boys, I'm now watching my every move and my every outfit in trepidation. Am I behaving too 'girly'? Am I dressing too 'girly'? Is this 'girly'? Is that ...?
Ah fuck.
What I am is getting more and more and more neurotic every fucking second.
(Oh no! Is this too Ally McBeal-ish? Is this a 'girly' trait? Does this make me too femme?
Oh no! The sky is falling!)
(23:36 SGT)
"You seem more femme ..."
"You're behaving more and more like a girl ..."
"You're like one of those girls now ..."
They are just one step away from calling me 'gu niang'.
And if they ever dared to, I swear I'm gonna pull off their dicks and bitch slap them silly with them.
It's not that I reject (my) femininity. (I think I don't.) I'm just very terrified of dressing or behaving in an overly feminine manner ... I'm not sure why.
I think it may be because I think I'd look like a drag queen in 'girly' clothes - and not like the gorgeous Pollyfilla either; leaning more towards Philip Seymour Hoffman's drag queen in Flawless ... but much fuglier - like a male comedian who dons drag to wring a laugh from his audience.
This, in turn, may have its roots in a girl friend's once telling me I should never wear blusher: I turn red easily; if I wore blusher, my face would look like a baboon's butt.
Very encouraging stuff, this.
Especially now, when I'm trying to plan a 'working' wardrobe.
I'm trying to get away with never having to wear make-up (or, as Germ had reminded me what I'd always called it: "war paint"). I don't know how I'm gonna pull it off if and when I start going for job interviews, but I'm gonna give it a shot. Why should women wear make-up anyway? It's not fair that men don't have to. (Besides, I'm allergic.)
Thanks to the boys, I'm now watching my every move and my every outfit in trepidation. Am I behaving too 'girly'? Am I dressing too 'girly'? Is this 'girly'? Is that ...?
No! I'm not Grace Kelly, nor was meant to be;
Am an ordinary girl, one that will do
To swell a trend, make a faux pas or two,
Bow to the princess ...
(Dear Mr. Eliot's Ghost,
Please forgive my trespass and please spare me a haunting tonight.
With my undying gratitude,
s.)
Ah fuck.
What I am is getting more and more and more neurotic every fucking second.
(Oh no! Is this too Ally McBeal-ish? Is this a 'girly' trait? Does this make me too femme?
Oh no! The sky is falling!)
(23:36 SGT)
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